In the blog entry, A Sad Day for Mankind, I wrote about how I lost the entry about my travels. The missing entry was in response to a request from Engin who translates Heavenletters into Turkish for us every day.

Well, it seems it was all a mistake — it wasn’t lost! This morning I found the missing entry sitting in the Blogwriting folder. I simply hadn’t looked far enough down in the folder. It was at the very bottom. My face should be red, but it isn’t, not at all!

Part of me is even glad this happened because it makes the point, that God makes so often, that we can see further than we do.

And I am very happy not to have to reconstruct what I had already written!

Naturally, I would love to tell you about my travels. Who wouldn’t love to do this? I hope everyone who reads this will tell us about their travels too.

Here goes:

No one in my family ever traveled. Of course, my parents traveled to U.S. from Russia many years before I knew them, and before they knew each other, but there was no traveling for the fun or education of travel.

The biggest trip we ever took as a family was to go to New London Beach in Connecticut for the day. The beach was about two hours away. We’d go just for the day.

Otherwise, travel was just not on our agenda. No such thing as vacations for my family. My parents worked six days a week every week of the year. There was no thought about travel. It wasn’t a consideration. That’s just how it was.

My first time traveling was when I was in junior high school and went to visit a good friend, Nancy Daniels, in Saratoga Springs, New York. How I wish I knew where Nancy is now. (Don’t lose track of good friends.)

Her family had moved that year, and I went by bus. This was my first taste of traveling. Saratoga was noted for its horse races and spas. There were great mansions there, and my friend Nancy’s parents were renting a gorgeous mansion. I had a wonderful time. We went to the races!

The next travel I remember was when I was still a student at AIC (American International College) in Springfield, Massachusetts. The most wonderful job fell into my lap. I was asked to be assistant to the history professor who had been appointed Director of Foreign Students. International seems to have really figured in my life.

Can you believe this!!! Part of my job was going on field trips with the students! We chartered buses to the United Nations, the State Department in Boston, trips to the homes of various presidents, Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s home, Thomas Jefferson’s, I remember. We took weekend trips to Washington, D.C. and also Niagara Falls. It was part of my job to travel!

This must be when I caught the travel bug.

When I graduated, most of the students I knew were back in their own countries, and I had a million invitations, and it seemed kind of natural to pack up and go to Europe. My brother Sid had given me a whole set of white American Tourister luggage. I had been saving my pennies, and I was also trying to recover from a broken romance, so off to Europe I went. I spent three months there. What great hospitality was heaped on me.

When I got off the train in Trieste, seven students greeted me. You get the idea!

I loved Italy. I spent time in Venice. Oh, my heart. I can still hear the cries of vendors through the night saying what sounded to me like Orangiata, meaning orange soda, at least, that’s what I thought. Paula, Heaven’s translator in Italy, thinks I probably mean ARANCIATA. Oh, I am really going down Memory Lane with this blog entry.

I loved everywhere I went. In Belgium, I stayed with a student in Antwerp and his mother who was one of the most beautiful souls you could ever meet on this Earth. I will never forget her.

I remember being in Vienna, Austria. I remember the marvelous wiener schnitzel. I bought my six-year old nephew some authentic lederhosen while I was in Vienna.

Hamburg, Germany. It’s funny the things you remember. I remember I was in a restaurant and absent-mindedly left my wallet behind, and a waitress came running out to catch me.

I spent a day in Liechtenstein. I remember no more about it than that.

I spent some time in Denmark at a dairy farm. The air, the food — everything was so fresh and delicious. Very loving family. The mother made an early breakfast for everyone. This included setting the table perfectly with a fresh table cloth that she ironed, of course.

Midmorning there was a snack where everyone sat down and ate together as well. The snack was like a meal, wonderful homemade bread and pastries which the mother had baked after breakfast and which she served with myriads of wonderful fresh cheese, coffee and raw milk.

There was lunch which was the main meal. The one lunch I remember was cauliflower with a most delicious cream sauce.

And then open sandwiches for supper.At every meal, this amazing mother had a freshly ironed tablecloth. I was impressed. Where did she get the energy for all the cooking and cleaning she did? Did I mention that all the farm workers also came to lunch. She cooked for a crowd, God bless her.

Here was one thing that must have kept her going:

At the end of each meal, everyone, from the youngest child to the grandfather, would look into the mother’s eyes and say, “Tak for mun.� Thanks for the meal. They really had something to thank her for.

Just for one afternoon, I went to Sweden by boat from Denmark.

I also spent some time in Copenhagen. I remember the beautiful Tivoli Gardens. I also went shopping at the George Swenson store and bought for my brother, who had given me the luggage, a beautiful set of stainless steel flatware, for him and his fiancee for their upcoming wedding.

Spent some time in England. Loved it. Went to museums. Went shopping at Harrod’s Department Store.

Switzerland. I remember we had to stop the car to let herds of goats go by. I don’t remember herds of sheep, yet I do remember that the goatherds could just talk plainly to the goats, but when it came to the lambs, they had to talk very sweetly and kindly and tenderly because lambs are so sensitive.

I am writing about these beautiful countries in no special order, as you may have noticed.

Paris, France, was toward the end of my trip. Paris is everything they say. Marvelous cafe latte served so elegantly. Such a vitality. I had been to a lot of museums by this time. I was on my way to the Louvre Museum but changed my mind and went to the Louvre Department Store instead!

Holland — it wasn’t yet The Netherlands — was my port of entry. I forgot to tell you I traveled by ship. It was Holland American Lines, but the particular ship I was on was called The Sibiyak , and it was an Indonesian ship. Oh, what wonderful service.

I spent time in Amsterdam and then spent time in Nymigen with the family of one of the students from the college. We rode bicycles a lot.

At every place I was privileged to spend time with students I had known at the college.

Does that make eleven countries? I hope I didn’t leave any out.

This was three months of wonderful people, food, and adventures.

Another time I will tell you about further travels.